


Lagers and Coffee

by mukaismom



Category: Mob Psycho 100
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Swearing, also sort of not really, can be interpreted romantically? like the Beginning of Something (tm), fluff bomb!!, i feel like I should mention that, mineseri, nothing graphic i promise, sort of not really, there's lightening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 04:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukaismom/pseuds/mukaismom
Summary: Minegishi can't talk about emotions. Serizawa can, but it's convoluted. Also, I can't write a good title.(Serizawa gives a hungover Minegishi a piece of his mind.)





	

     The clouds hung low, pregnant with sea spray in the green expanse above Minegishi. Soon, the sky would wretch out rain and thunder—waves pounded against the dark basalt cliff, the whispers of the reeds behind him turned to screams as sand exfoliated his face in sheets. The next gust of wind sent sand straight into his eyes. Swearing, Minegishi, groped through his brown polyester satchel until he felt the thick plastic build of his circa 2008 Nokia—Toichirou was cheap and so was Minegishi; he couldn’t be bothered to buy another. Flower shops didn’t pay much, anyway.

      He opened his mobile to blackness. _No battery. Great._ Granted, Minegishi wasn’t sure why he resorted to his phone in the first place—the bus route he’d taken had shut down some hours ago, and he knew virtually no one besides his ex-coworkers and current boss. What could he do? “Hey boss, I’m stranded. Would you mind driving three hours to a bus stop on the coast, and then trekking off-road for an hour to a crumbling cliff blocked off with safety tape?”

      Lightening split the sky clean above his head. Minegishi threw off his satchel and plopped down onto the sand, then brushed at his thighs in a half-assed attempt to clean off his beige slacks. They normally smelled like dirt, but the sticky, damp scent of the sea swallowed Minegishi whole. Soon, rain mixed with the humid sea mist and Minegishi resigned himself to adjust his satchel underneath his head after snatching his last can of Sapporo. He’d managed to grab how many from the vending machine—Nine? Ten?—before someone coughed behind him and Minegishi stalked off, bag full of Sapporos at his waist.

      He could feel the tension of the plants around him with his head so close to their roots-they clung desperately to the sandy soil. Far off, torrents of wind uprooted a black pine, probably caught on the edge of an unstable hill. Minegishi turned to align himself with the wind and glimpsed a hoard of rats rushing underneath a patch of basalt rock covered in quivering sea lavender, the dark green stalks nearly black underneath the shrouded green moonlight.

     Minegishi closed his eyes. He could feel the sand cold beneath his hands, twiggy bits of wood, the cries of nearby trees, weeds, and shrubs as their limbs were wrenched from their bodies. They were in pain, but they would live. He pulled his blue flannel up past his chin and over his eyes and ears to block out flashes of lightening, luke-warm rain and the plants’ distress. His mouth tasted of cheap metal and warm alcohol. Some part of him urged him to at least get up, walk in the direction of the bus stop to wait for morning, but a larger part of him yelled for rest, to embrace the torrent of sensations about him, the distraction, a kind of white noise—

     --a damp, black slime snaked around his wrist. Minegishi, who had frozen for a moment in shock, now shrieked and scrambled to his feet before tripping over a rocky outcropping, eyes still covered by his flannel. He landed crouched, palms raw against the soaked basalt. _Was that a worm? What is this? Shit. SHIT._ Minegishi pulled his shirt down and shook his hands furiously, but the slime only slunk farther up his arm and _tugged._ He landed on his side, frozen and slightly shocked. It felt scaly.

      _A snake. Wonderful._ Minegishi blacked out.

     Some hours later, the sun glared him into consciousness. His head pounded, his eyes were half-cracked, and his thighs were sweaty even though a faux-velvet blanket, the most likely source of the issue, lay at the foot of the bed he was in. He felt the springs dig into his back as he groaned and curled to his side. Somewhere he heard the gurgle and drip of a coffee machine, and once he sniffed to clear his plugged nose, the scent hit him full-force. He could feel a cold coming on, plus beating from all the drinks last night—

     — _last night._ Minegishi stumbled out of bed and quickly patted himself. He still wore the slacks, and the same flannel, so he smelled like sand, salt, dirt and beer but no one had taken his clothes ( _why would they take my clothes anyway, they’re disgusting) but why was he in someone else’s bed (what could’ve happened, what did happen, whose place is this_ ) and his satchel

     hit him right in the chest. “Hey! What the hell!” _Jesus, what kind of_ —

     “Ah! I’m so sorry! That was, um… Sorry, I’d thought you’d seen me.”

 _He..._ Minegishi whipped around. _Yup._ “Well, you thought wrong.” Minegishi grabbed his satchel from the ground and looked Serizawa in the eyes. And Serizawa burst out laughing. “Hey, what— ”

     “You just… Minegishi, that sounded like something from an action movie. You know, like before someone gets shot in the face… _Well, you thought wrong._ ” Minegishi frowned. “Um, sorry…” more chuckles, “you haven’t changed much.”

     Minegishi could see the Sapporo cans sticking out of the trash in Serizawa’s kitchen as he avoided looking at him. “Serizawa, what happened?” Minegishi found that saying his name forced him into prompt response, minus stuttering.

     “We were worried.” He didn’t stumble over a single word.

     “Who is <i>we</i>?” Minegishi stared at the Sapporos even harder. On the counter beside the trashcan, a pot of anemones cracked under what Minegishi assumed was psychic tension. Serizawa’s aura had grown considerably in size and strength since Minegishi had last seen him. It was full of pale pinks and cool blues and the buttery color of the full moon, and it reminded Minegishi of the sky after sunset and before dusk. It had the same colors at CLAW, but it had been muted, grayer. Upon contemporary comparison, Minegishi’s greens and browns had about the luster of the Jurassic Park tour car after it’d been launched off a cliff.

     “Well, uh…Shimazaki and I. We were gonna meet you at the takoyaki place and you never--”

     “--Showed up. Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Minegishi pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had a bad day at work, I forgot, I just…”

     “Bought ten cans of beer and got drunk on a cliff edge four hours away?” It fell quiet. Dirt trickled out of the anemone pot and onto the linoleum tile. “Minegishi! If I hadn’t guessed where you were, if Shimazaki couldn’t teleport…You passed out! There was a storm, and these… plant roots were grabbing at your wrist—I think they sensed Shimazaki there, and thought he was a danger, I don't know, that’s what he told me—I just—”

     “Plant roots…”

     “What?” Minegishi could tell from the corner of his eyes that Serizawa’s face was red, from embarrassment or the rush of speaking his mind, maybe a bit of both. In any case, he looked angry and a bit afraid. Minegishi knew the feeling.

     “I… thought the roots were some kind of snake and I…” Minegishi smiled slightly, just enough so Serizawa could see. “I passed out. Don’t like snakes. But that makes more sense. Sometimes if plants think they sense danger, they try to guide me to safety. Never works of course, but Shimazaki’s seen it happen and it seems likely enough.”

     “Well just…Minegishi! Don’t do something so stupid again. I’m sorry for yelling at you like this, I just… well, I’m trying to speak my mind more. And I was concerned.” The last part fell out in a rush.

     “Don’t apologize. You have a right to yell at me. And don’t be concerned.” Minegishi slung his satchel across his chest. “Thank you for helping me. Tell Shimazaki that too. Probably wouldn’t have gotten back in time for work otherwise.”

     “Hey!” Serizawa blocked Minegishi from the door with one arm. On impulse, Minegishi looked up to glare at him and immediately regretted it. Serizawa’s eyes watered, rimmed with dark bags, and his lip quivered. Oh. _Oh._

     “Serizawa, I’m sor—”

     “Please don’t apologize! That doesn’t help! Just…don’t tell me not to be concerned. Do you think I can control it? Do you think I want to be concerned about someone who doesn’t care as much about me as I do him? I just…” Serizawa’s voice cracked. “I don’t know. I’m just tired of feeling on edge.” He paused and took a deep, shaky breath.” You make me feel on edge, Minegishi, and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of trying to maintain a one-sided friendship. Please, if you want to be friends, give me any sign. Any at all. I don’t want to waste your time anymore.” Now, tears trickled freely down Serizawa’s face. “By the way, Minegishi, I hate crying in front of people. I’m telling you this because I’m nervous, and Reigen told me to express my emotions when I’m feeling something strongly whether I’d like it or not, and I’m sorry for babbling, but it helps me keep everything from building—”

     “ _Serizawa._ ” Minegishi tentatively reached out and placed his hand on Serizawa’s shoulder. His button-down was made of soft cotton and matched the intensifying blue of his aura. For a moment, that was all Minegishi focused on. Powder blue, pale yellow and pastel pink morphed into the colors of midnight and bougainvillea, and warped back as soon as they’d changed. It was a predictable kind of chaos, and in a way easier to interpret than the emotions Serizawa had stated himself. “I...so. Reigen told you to express emotions when you feel something strongly.”

     Serizawa nodded. He had stopped crying, but an icy blue overtook all hints of pink and yellow before switching in a wave to something faint and pale, a pinkish-green like an unripe strawberry. “I’m not good with emotions, but I guess I’ll start with that.” Minegishi withdrew his hand and thrust them into his salt-and-beer slack pockets. “I was afraid. Of meeting with you and Shimazaki. I didn’t lie before, I did have a bad day at work, but it…I don’t know what to say.”

     “It made you feel like you weren’t ready to see us?” Serizawa sat down on the floor in front of the door and gestured for Minegishi to do the same. “Um… yes. And I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t want to be friends. I do.” _So much._ “Just…look at me.” Minegishi gestured to his sandy hair, his salt-stiff flannel, his beer-stained slacks.

     “What is that supposed to mean?” Serizawa said, eyebrow raised, then shook his head. “Never mind. I’ve done that enough to know. And Minegishi, I really don’t care what you’re like. What you’re going through, I mean. I mean, I do, because I want to help you, but what I mean is that no matter what’s happening, I’ll help you through it.” Serizawa scratched the back of his head. “But I really need you to…you know…at least show up and maybe talk to me.”

     Minegishi’s smile was faint. “You know I’m bad at talking. You’ve gotten a lot better at it, by the way. How did that come about?”

     “Don’t deflect, silly,” Serizawa laughed. Minegishi shrugged.

     “It’s my specialty. But really, Serizawa, I want to be around you, even if you don’t help me at all. And,” Minegishi noticed Serizawa’s downcast eyes, “Don’t worry about helping me. Life’s an eye for an eye right, and I haven’t done much for you so you don’t—”

     Serizawa burst out laughing.

     “What. What!”

     “You just…suck at comforting people.” Serizawa wiped tears from his eyes.

     Minegishi scowled. “Do you think I don’t know that?”

     The sharp kree of the coffee machine sounded behind them.

     “Minegishi, do you have time to stay for coffee?” Serizawa stood up and began walking toward the kitchen, glancing behind him. His face was a little raw and red from crying, but he had a smile on his face.

     Minegishi’s aura bloomed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the MP100 fluff bomb kiddos!! I think I looked over it only once to bury the nasty fics (tm) as quickly as possible. That should provide a proper explanation for the quality. Whoops.
> 
> Also, I would like everyone to know that Minegishi has the ugliest satchel in the world--perhaps in the universe. Look up "polyester satchel" in google images, find the nastiest one, and then imagine it poop brown with chunky buttons and zippers. That's the one.  
> He also doesn't like animals, especially snakes, because his mother owned a ball python that escaped when he was a kid and crawled into his bed. He also feels like he doesn't have the emotional capacity to care for animals (or people for that matter, which is why he distances himself). Sorry, I don't make the rules.
> 
> please talk to me about Minegishi and Serizawa on [my tumblr](http://uglyelleth.tumblr.com/)


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